


Vie En Roses

by Missy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fingerfucking, Gardens & Gardening, Loss of Virginity, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1424782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eponine knows something Cosette doesn't  - and Cosette's going to have to do her a favor to learn it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vie En Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV, prompt: Les Miserables, Eponine/Cosette, ribbon, bite, ruined, resentment, garden, envy, nimble, hair.
> 
> As tagged, this fic includes elements of dubious consent.

She appears at the garden gate like an apparition fit for the domes of Notre Dame…or perhaps the front window of the Sainte Catherine Boulanger. “You said you wanted to talk,” Cosette begins. Eponine says nothing. Cosette coughs softly, choking with embarrassment at her own words. “You had a letter from me from Marius?”

Eponine watches her boldly, her dark eyes glowing like coals in the set of her filthy face, and takes a step forward, her boots stirring up puddles of water sunken into the cracks of the rock-lined pathway. She reaches out to fondle a pink grosgrain ribbon dangling from Cosette’s hat. “Bet he thinks you’re the finest little bit he’s ever had.” Her nimble fingers trace upward, toward Cosette’s chin.

Cosette recoils from the scent of Eponine’s breath, from her accusations. “Monsieur Pontmancy hasn’t _had_ me.” She recoils again at her own idiomatic use of the language; the sisters who had drilled her in speech and comportment would have been ashamed, then calmly continues on. “Please, give me the letter. Papa has had chocolate in the front parlor, and I have a franc for your troubles…”

“My _troubles_ ,” Eponine says. “That’s the problem, Mademoiselle. You ain’t got no troubles but some silly love affair. I’ve gotta worry about how I’m gonna eat.”

Cosette’s lake-colored eyes filled with tears. “And I’m sorry about that. I promise to help you, but please, please give me the note!”

Eponine skittered away from Cosette’s lovely hands, walking a circle around her, taking a good look at her angelic beauty. They back into the garden grounds themselves, into the privacy of the thickly-growing rose bushes. “You know why he wants you? He ain’t tried the goods. Knows he has to buy them, with you. With me he could get it for free, but he don’t look at me twice.” Hands jerking forward, she pulls Cosette flush against her skinny body without breaking eye contact.

Cosette’s pink cheeks and snapping eyes only make Eponine’s mad, sparkling gaze intensify in its prismatic wildness. “I’ll scream, I swear!” 

“Oh, I’ll make you scream, lovey.” And then her fists are plowing through lengths of whalebone and tulle and organdy to dive into Cosette’s drawers.

For a convent novice like Cosette, such sudden advance are unfamiliar and frightening, but she doesn’t have time to think before Eponine’s fingers find and acquaint themselves with her sex. A moaning gasp muffles itself in the back of her throat, the scent of roses mixing with an unfamiliar and heady scent of Cosette’s private making. Her nether portions feel alive for the first time, throbbing with secret signals that Eponine seems to understand and knows how to satisfy with those clever fingers of hers.

Then there’s an adjustment in pressure, and Cosette wails, her blunt nails cutting into Eponine’s shoulders. Something is wrong, something has changed, she cannot identify it and the confusion maddens her. “You’ve…ruined me,” Cosette chokes, out, her teeth sinking into Eponine’s neck. 

“Buy a chicken,” Eponine snarls. “Even Marius won’t be able to tell.” Cosette’s foggy mind gropes for a question, an answer, but then Eponine finds a spot within her and her curious, dirty fingers press upon it as she strokes into and out of her, the wetness of it, the warmth making Cosette wilt and freeze. She craves release with an animal hunger that expands and expands within her, until finally it breaks and her muscles seize in an incredible wave of pleasure.

When Cosette’s eyes refocus, Eponine’s still standing before her, her lips turned smugly upward, those eyes still madly gleaming. “Happens to the best of us, mademoiselle.” Her voice drips with contempt. “Even a fancy lady like you can rut with the cats in an alleyway.”

It’s Cosette’s desire to silence Eponine’s bragging that causes her to do the previously-unthinkable. One hand seizes the trim of her poor girl’s vest and pries its way between the hem and the sash holding up Eponine’s pants, feeling the leanness of the girl, the raw contours . She has no idea what she’s doing, but soon Eponine is jerking and moaning and adding her own scent to the perfumed atmosphere.

Cosette’s fingers are slick when she pulls her hand from Eponine’s slacks. The girls’ expression is rapturous still, her features hardening when Cosette – wiping her hand clean upon her dress – speaks. “There’s no letter at all. Is that it?” 

Eponine backs toward the gate, tilting her mob cap, covering her rakish eyes. “Go find Marius yourself if you wanna talk to him so badly.” Then she melds with the shadows beyond the gate, becoming just another ghost darkening the sunshine world of Cosette’s mind.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Les Miserables** , all of whom are the property of the **Estate of Victor Hugo**. No money was gained from the writing of this fanfiction and all are used under the strictures of of the Berne Convention.


End file.
